F\ 'j^'i'iCou.TSfc. cifclivfcTtci 171 



V?v tht litatli of G^^^t^aI 



7 



cyan 



ScT narnitt 



or,. 



-By tlipUItt Mctc. 



X-- 



DISCOURSE, 

DELIVERED IS THE 

NORTH DUTCH CHURCH, 

IN THE CITY OF ALBANY, 
OCCASIONED BY THE EVER. TO BE LAMENTED 5^/ | 

DEATH 



//? 



OF 



xl5etteral :^iejcanijcr i^amilton, 

JUL" 29, 1804. 



BY ELIPHALET NOTT, A. M. 

riSTOR OF THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH IS SAID TITV 



PUBLISHED BY REQUEST. 



THE THIRD EDITION. 

SALEM: 
PRINTED BY JOSHUA CUSHINO. 



1804. 



■■^' 



A DISCOURSE. 



II SAMUEL, I. 19. 

HOW ARE THE MIGHTY FALLEN ! 

The occafion explains the choice of my fub- 
jeft ; a fubjeft on which I enter in obedience to 
your requeft. You have aflembled to exprcfs 
your elegiac forrows, and fad and folemn weeds 
cover you. 

Before fuch an audience, and on fuch an occa- 
fion, I enter on the duty affigned me with trem- 
bling. Do not miftake my meaning. I trc^'^^^'i^ 
indeed — not, however, through fear of failing . ''" 
merit your applaufe ; for what have I to do with 
that when addrefling the dying, and treading on 
the afhes of the dead ? — Not throua;h fear of fail- 
ing, juftly to pourtray the charaftcr of that Great 
Man who is at once the theme of my encomium 
and regret. He needs not eulogA'. — His work is 
finifhed, and death has removed him beyond my 
cenfure, and I would fondly hope, through grace, 
above my praife. 

You will afk, then, why I tremble. I tremble 
to think that I am called to attack from this place 
a crime, the very idea of which almoft freezes one 
with horror — a crime too which exifts among the 
polite and polifted orders of fociety, and which is 
accompanied with every aggravation ; committed 

with 



C 4 ] 

with cool deliberation — and openly, in the face 
of day ! 

But I have a duty to perform ; and, difficult 
and awful as that duty is, I will not flirink from 
it. 

Would to God my talents were adequate to the 
occafion. But fuch as they are, I devoutly prof- 
fer them to unfold the nature and counteraft the 
influence of that barbarous cuftom, which, like 
a refiftlefs torrent, is undermining the foundations 
of civil government, breaking down the barriers 
of focial happinefs, and fweeping away virtue, 
talents and domeftic felicity in its defolating 
courfe. 

Another and an illuftrious character — a father 
— a ,eneral — a ftatcfman — the very man who 
1^ d on an eminence and without a rival, among 
Jages and heroes, the future hope of his country 
in danger — this man, yielding to the influence of 
a cuftom which defcrvcs our eternal reprobation, 
has been brought to an untiinely end. 

That the deaths of great and ufcful men fhould 
be particularly noticed, is equally the dictate of 
reafon and revelation. The tears of Ifrael flowed 
at the deceafe of good Jos i ah, and to his memo- 
ry the funeral women chanted the folcnin dirge. 

But neither examples nor arguments are necef- 
fary to wake the fympathics of a grateful people 
on fuch occafions. The death of public benefac- 
tors furcharges the heart, and it fpontaneoufly 
difourdens itfelf by a flow of forrows. 

Such 



X 



[ 5 ] 

Snich was the death of WASHINGTON, to 
embalm whofe memory, and perpetuate whofe 
deathlefs fame, we lent our feeble but unnecefTary 
fervices. Such, alfo, and more peculiarly fo, has 
been the death of HAMILTON. 

The tidings of the former moved us — mourn- 
fully moved us — and we wept. The account of 
the latter chilled our hopes, and curdled our blood. 
The former died in a good old age ; the latter 
was cut oft" in the midlt of his ulefulnefs. The 
former was a cuftomary providence ; we faw in 
it, if I may fpcak fo, the hnger of God, and refted 
in his fovereignty. The latter is not attended 
with this foothing circumflance. 

The fall of Hamilton owes its exiftcnce to 
mad deliberation, and is marked by violence. 
The time, the place, the circumftances, arc arrang- 
ed with barbarous coolnefs. The inftrument of 
death is levelled in dav iiorht, and with well direct- 
ed fkill pointed at his heart. Alas ! the event 
has proved that it was but too well directed. 
Wounded, mortally wounded, on the very fpot 
which ftill fmoked with the blood of a favourite 
fon, into the arms of his indifcreet and cruel 
friend the father fell. 

Ah ! had he fallen in tlie courfe of nature ; or 
jeopardizing his life in defence of his country, 

had he fallen But he did not. He fell in fin- 

gle combat — Pardon my miftakc — he did not fall 
in lingle combat. His noble nature refufed to en- 
danger the life of his antagonift. But he expof- 
ed his own life. This was his crime : and the 
facrednefs of my office forbids that 1 fhould hefu 
tate explicitly to declare it io. He 



.4>i' 



C 6 ] 

He did net helitate to declare it fo himfelf : 
" My religious and moral principles are ftrongly 
oppofed to duelling." Thefe are his words before 
he ventured to the field of death. " I view the 
late tranfaftion with forrow and contrition." 
Thefe are his words after his return. 

Humiliating end of illuftrious greatnefs ! — 
How are the ?nigbty fallen ! And fhall the mighty 
thus fall ! Thus fliall the nobleft lives be facrific- 
cd, and the richefl; blood be fpilt ! Tell it not in 
Gath ; publtjly it not in the Jireets of Afkelon ! 

Think not that the fatal iffue of the late inhu- 
man interview was fortuitous. No j the Hand 
that guides unfecn the arrow of the archer, fleadi- 
ed and directed the arm of the duellift. And why 
did it thus direft it ? As a folemn viemento — as a 
loud and awful warning to a community where 
juftice has flumbered — and flumbered — and flum- 
bered — while the wife has been robbed of her 
partner, the mother of her hopes, and life after 
life rafhly and with an air of triumph fported 
away. 

And v\^as there, O my God ! no other facrifice 
valuable enough — would the cry of no other 
blood reach the place of retribution, and wake 
juftice, dozing over her awful feat ! 

But though juftice Ihould ftill {lumber, and re- 
tribution be delayed, we, who are the minifters 
of that Gob who will judge the judges of the 
world, and whole malediction rcfts on him who 
does his* work unfaithfully, we will not keep fi- 

lence. 

I 



C 7 3 

I feel, my brethren, how incongruous my fub- 
jeft is with the place I occupy. 

It is humiliating ; it is diftrefling in a Chriftian 
country, and in churches confecrated to the reli- 
gion of Jesus, to be obliged to attack a crime 
which outftrips barbarifm, and would even flnk the 
character of a generous favage. But, humiliating 
as it is, it is neceflary. 

And muft we then, even for a moment, forget 
the elevation on which grace hath placed us, and 
the light which the gofpel fheds around us ? 
Muft we place ourfelves back in the midfl of bar- 
barifm ? — and, inftead of hearers foftencd to for- 
givenefs by the love of Jesus, filled with noble 
lentimcnts towards enemies, and waiting for oc- 
cafions, after the example of Divinity, to do them 
good — inftead of fuch hearers, muft we fuppofc 
ourfelves addrefling hearts petrified to goodnefs, 
incapable of mercy, and broiling with revenge. — 
Muft we, O my God ! inftead of exliorting thofe 
who hear us, to go on unto perfedion, adding to 
'virtue charity^ and to charity brotherly kindnefs — 
muft we, as if furrounded by an auditory juft 
emerging out of darknefs, and ftill cruel and fero- 
cious, reafon to convince them that revenge is 
unproper, and that to commit deliberate murder 
is ftn. 

Yes, we muft do this. Repeated violations of 
the law, and the fanfluary which the guilty find 
in public fentiment, prove that it is neceffary. 

Withdraw therefore for a moment, ye celeftial 
Spirits — ye holy angels accuftomed to hover round 

thefe 



[ 8 ] 

thefe ALTARS and Hften to thofe ftrains of grace 
which heretofore have filled this House of God. 
Other fubjefts occupy us. Withdraw, therefore, 
and leave us — leave us to exhort Chriftian parents 
to reftrain their vengeance, and at leaft to keep 
back their hands from blood — to exhort youth, 
nurtured in Chriftian families, not raflily to fport 
with life, nor lightly to wring the widow's heart 
with forrows, and fill the orphan's eye with tears. 

In accomplifhing the object which is before me, 
it will not be expected, as it is not neceffary, that 
I fhould give a hiftory of Duelling. You 
need not be informed that it originated in a dark 
and barbarous age. The poliflied Greek knew 
nothing of it — The noble Roman was above it. 
Rome held in equal deteftation the man who ex- 
pofed his life unneceflarily, and him who refufed 
to expofe it when the public good required it.* 
Her heroes were fuperior to private contefts. 
They indulged no vengeance, except againft the 
enemies of their country. Their fwords were 
not drawn, unlefs her honour was in danger ; 
which honovir they defended with their fwords not 
only, but Ihiclded with their bofoms alfo, and 
were then prodigal of their blood. 

But though Greece and Rome knew nothing 
of Duelling, it exifts. It exifts among us : and 
it exifts at once the moft rash, the moft absurd 
and GUILTY praclifc that ever difgraced a Chriftian 
nation. 

Gu I LTY — Becaufe it is a violation of the law. 
What law? The law of God. THOU SHALT 

NOT 

* Salluft. de Bell. Catil. ix. 



C 9 1 

NOT KILL. This prohibition was delivered by- 
Go d himfclf, at Sinai, to the Jews. And, that it 
is of univerfal and perpetual obligation, is li.nni- 
fcft from the nature ot the crime prohibited not 
only, but alfo from the exprefs declaration of the 
ChrilHan Lawgiver, who hath recognized its juf- 
tice, and added to it the fanctioa of his own au- 
thority. 

" Thou (halt not kill." Who ? Thou, crea- 
ture. I, the Creator, have given life, and thou 
fhalt not take it away. When, and untler what 
circumftances, may I not take away life ? Never, 
and under no circumftances, without my permif- 
fion. — It is obvious, that no difcretion whatever is 
here given. The prohibition is addrefled to eve- 
ry individual where the law of God is promulgat- 
ed, and the terms made ufe of arc exprefs and 
unequivocal. So that life cannot be taken under 
any pretext, without incurring guilt, unlefs by a 
permiflion fanclioned by the lame authority which 
fanclions the general law prohibiting it. 

From this law it is granted there are exceptions. 
Thefe exceptions, however, do not refult from any 
fovercignty which one creature has over the ex- 
iftence of another, but from the pofitivc appoint- 
ment of that Eternal Being, whofe is the icortd 
and the fulnefs thereof; in ivhofe hand is the foul cf 
every living creature, and the breath of all mankind. 

Even the authority which we claim over the 

lives of animals is not founded on a natural right, 

but on a pofitivc grant made by the Deity hlmfelf 

to Noah and his fons.* This grant contains our 

B warrant 

• Gen. is. 3. 



C 10 ] 

warrant for taking tlie lives of animals. But if 
we may not take the lives of animals without 
permiffion from GOD, much lefs may we the life 
of man, made in his image. 

In what cafes then has the Sovereign of life giv- 
en this permiffion ? In rightfui. war* — by 
iHE CIVIL magistrate! — and in necessary 
Self-defence. I Beiide thcfe, I do not hefitate to 
declare, that in the oracles of God there are no 
other. 

He therefore who takes life In any other cafe, 
under whatever pretext, takes it unwarrantably, 
is guilty of what the fcriptures call murder, and 
expofes himfelf to the malediction of that God 
who is an avenger of blood, and who hath faid, 
/// the hand of every mans brother will I require the 
life of man. Wbofo fieddcth man's blood, by manjhall 
his blood be floed. 

The ducllift contravenes the law of God not 
only, but the law of man alfo. To the prohibi- 
tion of the former have been added the fanftions 
of the latter. Life taken in a duel, by the com- 
nion law is murder. And where this is not the 
cafe, tl)c giving and receiving of a challenge only, 
is by ftatute confidered a high mifdemeanour, for 
which the principal and his fecond are declared 
infamous, and disfranchifcd for twenty years. 

Under 

* 2 Sam. X. 12. Jer. xlviii. lo. Luke iii. i+. f Ex. xxi. 12. 
\ Ex. xxii. 2. 



[ H ] 

Under wlnt accumulated circumflances of a.c^- 
rravation does the duellift jeopardize his own lite, 
or take the life of his antaooniit ! 



fi^ 



I am fenfible that in a licentious age, and when 
laws are made to yield to the vices of thofc who 
move in the higher rirc/cs, this crime is called by 
I know not what mild and accommodating name. 
But before thefe altars — in this liuuf'e of CIod — 
what is it ? It is MURDJtR — deliberate^ aggravated 

MURDER. 

If the duellift deny this, let him produce his war- 
rant from the Author of life, for taking away 
from his creature the life v/hich had been fove- 
reignly given. If he cannot do this, beyond all 
controverfy he is a murderer ; for murder confills 
in taking away life without the pcrmifiion, and 
contrary to the prohibition, of Him who gave it. 

Who Is it then that calls the duellift to the dan- 
gerous and deadly combat ? Is it God ? No ; on 
the contrary he forbids it. Is it then his coun- 
try ? No ; flie alfo utters her prohibitory voice. 
Who is it then ? A man of honour. And who 
is this man of honour ? A man perhaps whoie 
honour is a name ; who prates with polluted lips 
about the flicrednefs of character, when his own 
is ftained with crimes, and needs but the fmgle 
fliade of murder to complete the difmal and hck- 
ly picture. 

Every tranfgrefiion of the divine law implies 
great guilt, bt:caure it is the tranfgreflion ofinli- 
nite authority. But the crime of deliberately and 
lightly taking life has peculiar aggravations. It is 

a 



C 12 3 

a crime committed againft the written law not 
only, but alfo againft the diftates of reafon, the 
renionftrances of confcience, and every tender and 
amiable feeling of the heart. 

To the unfortunate fufferer, it is the wanton 
violation of his moft facred rights. It fnatches 
him from his friends and his comforts, termi- 
nates his ftate of trial, and precipitates him, un- 
called for and perhaps unprepared, into the pre- 
lence of his Judge. 

You will fay, the duellift feels no malice. Be 
it fo. Malice, indeed, is murder in principle. 
But there may be murder in reafon, and in fad:, 
where there is no malice. Some other unwarrant- 
able pallion or principle may lead to the unlaw- 
ful taking of human life. 

The highwayman, who cuts the throat and ri- 
fles the pocket of the paffing traveller, feels no 
malice. And could he, with equal eafe and no 
greater danger of deteftion, have fecured his 
booty without taking life, he would have flayed 
his arm over the palpitating bofom of his viftim, 
and let the plundered fuppliant pafs. 

Would the imputation of cowardice have been 
inevitable to the duellift, if a challenge had not 
been given or accepted ? The imputation of want 
had been no lefs inevitable to the robber, if the 
money of the pafilng traveller had not been fe- 
cured. 

Would 



[ 13 J 

Would the duellift have been NvHling to have 
fpared the life of his antagonift, if the point of 
honour could otherwife have been gained ? So 
would the robber, if the point of property could 
have been. Who can fay that the motives of the 
one arc not as urgent as the motives of the other I 
and the means by which both obtain the object of 
their wifhes are the fame. 

Thus, according to the dictates of reafon, as 
well as the law of God, the highwayman and the 
duellift ftand on ground equally untenable ; and 
fupport their guilty havock of the human race bv' 
arguments equally fallacious. 

Is duelling guilty ? So it is 

Absurd. It is abfurd as a punlfliment, for 

it admits of no proportion to crimei: : and belides, 
virtue and vice, guilt and innocence, arc equally 
expofed by it to death or fuffering. As a repara- 
tion it is ftill more abfurd ; for it makes the in- 
jured liable to a iiill greater injury. And as the 
vindication of perfonal charadlcr, it is abfurd even 
beyond madnels. 

One man of honour, by fome inadvertence, or 
perhaps with defign, injures the f^nfibiliiy of 
another man of honour. In perfect character, the 
injured gentleman relents it. He challenges the 
offender. The offender accepts tlie challenge. 
The time is fixed. The place is agreed upon. 
The circumftances, with an air of folemn mania, 
are arranged ; and the principals, v.'ith their fe- 
conds and furgecns, retire under the covert of 
Ibme folitarv hill, or uoon the margin of fonie 

unfrequented 



[ 14 ] 

unfrequented beach, to fettle this important quef- 
tion of honour by ilabbing or fliooting at each 
other- 
One or the other or both the parties fall in this 
polite and gentlemanlike conteft. And what does 
this prove ? It proves that one or the other, or 
both of them, as the cafe may be, are markfmen. 
But it affords no evidence that either of them 
poffeffes honour, probity or talents. 

It is true that he who falls in fingle combat, 
has the honour of being murdered : and he who 
takes his life, the honour of a murderer. Befides 
this, I know not of any glory which can redound 
to the infatuated combatants, except it be what 
refults from having extended the circle of wretch- 
ed widows, and added to the number of haplefs 
orphans. 

And yet, terminate as it will, this frantic meet- 
ing, by a kind of magic influence, entirely var- 
nilhes over a defeftive and fniutty charafter ; 
transforms vice to virtue, cowardice to courage, 
makes falfehood truth, guilt innocence — in one 
word, it gives a new complexion to the whole 
fiate of things. The Ethiopian changes his fkin, 
the leopard his fpots, and the debauched and 
treacherous. ...having fhot av/ay the infamy of a 
forry life, comes back from the field of perfecti- 
bility quite regenerated, and in the fuUeft fenfe 
an honourable man. He is now fit for the com- 
pany of gentlemen. He is admitted to that com- 
pany, and fhould he again by acts of vilenefs ftain 
this purity of characler fo nobly acquired, and 
Ihould any one have the effrontery to fay that he 

has 



C 15 ] 

has done fo, again he ftands ready to vindicate 
his honour, and by another z6t of homicide to 
wipe away the ftain which has been attached to 
it. 

I might illuftrate this article by example. I 
might produce inftances of this myfterious tranf- 
formation of character, in the fublime circles of 
moral refinement, furnifhed by the higher orders 
of the fafliionable world, which the mere firing of 
piftols has produced. 

But the occafion is too awful for irony. 

Abfurd as duelling is, were it abfurd only, 
though we might fmile at the wcaknefs, and pity 
the folly, of its abettors, there would be no occa- 
fion for ferioufly attacking them. — But to what 
has been faid, I add, that duelling is 

Rash and presumptuous. Life is the gift 

of God ; and it was never beftowed to be fported 
with. To each the Sovereign of the univerfe has 
marked out a fphere to move in, and afligned a 
part to aft. This part refpeds ourfelvcs not only, 
but others alfo. Each lives for the benefit of all. 

As in the fyflem of nature the fun Ihines, not 
to difplay its own brightnefs, and anfwer its own 
convenience, but to warm, enlighten and blefs the 
world ; fo, in the fyftem of animated beings, 
there is a dependence, a correfpondence and a re- 
lation, through an infinitely extended, dyii.g and 
reviving univerfe — in which no man liveth to himfelfy 
and no man didh to himfelf. Friend is related to 
friend ; the father to his family j the individual 

to 



[ 15 ] 

to the community : to every member of which, 
having iixcd his ftation and affigned his duty, the 
God of nature fays, " Keep this trufi — defend this 
poiL" For whom ? For thy friends — thy fami- 
ly — thy country. And having received fuch a 
charge, and for fuch a purpofe, to delert it is ra{h» 
ncfs and temerity. 

Since the opinions of men arc as they are, do 
you afk, how you fliall avoid the imputation of 
■cowardice, if you do not fight when you are injur- 
ed ? Afk your family how you will avoid the 
imputation of cruelty— allc your confcience how 
you will avoid the imputation of guilt — alk God 
how you will avoid his malediftion, if you do. 
Thefe are previous queftions. Let thefe hrft be 
anfwered, and it will be eafy to reply to any which 
may follow them. 

If you only accept a challenge, when you be- 
lieve in your confcience that duelling is wrong, 
you act the cov/ard. The daflarclly fear of the 
v/orld governs you. Awed by its menaces, you 
conceal your fentiments, appear in difguife, and 
act in guilty conformity to principles not your 
own, and that too in the moft folemn moment, 
and when engaged in an act which expofes you to 
death. 

But if it be raflinefs to accept, how paffing rafh- 
nefs is it in a {inner to give, a challenge ! Does it 
become him, wliofe life is meafured out by crimes, 
to be extreme to mark, and pundilious to refent, 
whatever is amifs in others r Mufl the duellifl, 
who now, difdainlnp; to forgive, fo imperioufly 
demands latisfadjon'to the uttcrmoft— muft this 

man 



I 17 ] 

tnan himfeif, trembling at the rccolleftion of his 
offences, prefently appear a fuppliant before the 
mercy feat of God. Imagine this (and the cafe is 
not imaginary) and you cannot conceive an in- 
ftance of greater inconfiftency, or of more prelump- 
tous arrogance. Wherefore ai-e-ge not yourfelvcs, 
iiit rather give place unto lurath ; for vengeance if 
mine, Iivill repay it, faith the Lord. 

Do you afk, then, how you fiiall conduct to- 
wards your enemy who hath lightly done you 
wrong ? If he be hungry, feed him ; if naked, 
clothe him ; if thirily, give him drink. Such, 
had you preferred your queftion to Jesus Christ, 
is the anfwer he had given you ; by oblerving 
which, you will ufually fubdue, and always act 
more honourable than your enemy. 

I feel, my brethren, as a minifter of Jesus, and 
a teacher of his gofpel, a noble elevation on this 
article. 

Compare the conduct of the Chriftian, acting 
in conformity to the principles of religion, and 
of the duellift, afting in conformity to the princi- 
ples of honour, and let rcafon fay wliich bears the 
marks of the mofi exalted greatncfs. Compare 
them, and let reafon fay which enjoys the moft 
calm ferenity of mind in time, and which is likely 
to receive the plaudit of his Judje in immortality. 

God, from his throne, beholds not a nob! cr ob- 
ject on his footftool, than the man who loves his 
enemies, pities their errors, and forgives the in- 
juries they do him. This is indeed the very fpi- 
rit of the heavens. It is the image of his benig- 
nity, whofe glory fills them. 

C To 



/ 



C 18 ] 

To return to the fubjecl before us— -GtriLTy, 
ABSURD and rash as duelling is, it has its advo- 
cates. And had it not had its advocates — had 
not a firange preponderance of opinion been in 
favour of it, never, O lamented Hamilton ! 
hadll thou thus fallen, in the midll of thy daya, 
and before thou hadft reached the zenith of thy 
glory. 

O that I poffelTed the talent of eulogy, and that 
I mig;ht be permitted to indulije the tendernefs of 

Ox O 

friendlhip, in paying the lad tribute to his memo- 
ry. O that I were capable of placing this great 
man before you. Could I do this, I fiiould fur- 
nifh you with an argument, the moft practical, 
the moil plain, the moft convincing, except that 
drawn from the mandate of God, that was ever 
iurnifhed againft duelling, that horrid practice, 
which has, in an awful moment, lobbed the world 
of fuch exalted worth. 

But I cannot do this ; I can only hint at the va- 
riety and exuberance of his excellence. 

The MAN, on whom nature feems originally to 
have imprefled the ftamp of greatnefs ; whofe 
genius beamed from the retirement of collegiata 
life, with a radiance M'hich dazzled, and a loveli- 
nefs v\-hich charmed, the eye of fages. 

The HERO, called from his fequeflcred retreat, 
whole firft appearance in the held, though a flrip- 
img, conciliated the efteem of Washington, 
our good old father. Moving by whofe fide, dur- 
ing all the perils of the revolution, our youn^ 
Chieftain was a contributor to the veteran's glo- 
ry, the guardian of his peribn, and the compart- 
ner of liis toils. * The 



r 1^' ] 

The CONQUEROR, who, fparlng of human 
blood, when viclory lavourcd, fcayed the uplifted 
arm, and nobly laid to the var.quidied enemv, 
" Live." 

The STATESMAN, the correctncfs of whofc 
principles, and the ilrengtli of whofc mind, arc in- 
fcribcd on the records of Congrcl's and on the an- 
nals of the council-chamber ; whole genius im- 
preffed itfelf upon the coNsriruTioK ot his coun- 
try ; and whofe memory, the government, il- 
lustrious FABRiCK, relHn^ on this bafi'^, will per- 
petuate while it hdls : and, iliaken by the violence 
of party, ihould it fall, which may 1 leaven avert, 
his prophetic declarations will be found infcribcd 
on its ruins. 

The COUNSELLOR, who was at once the 
pride of the bar, and the admiration of the court ; 
whofe apprehenlions were quick as lightning, and 
whofe dcvciopement of truth was luminous as its 
path ; whofe argument no change of circumftan- 
ces could embarrafs ; v.hofc knowledge appeared 
intuitive j and who by a fingle glance, and with 
as much facility as the eye of the eagle pafils over 
the landfcape, iurveyed the whole field of contro- 
verfy — faw in what way truth might be moft fuc- 
cefsfully defended, and how error mufl be ap- 
proached ; and who, without ever flopping, ever 
hefitating, by a rapid and manly march, led the 
liftening judge and the fafcinated juror, ftep by 
flep, through a dclightfome region, brightening as 
he advanced, till his argument rofc to demonltra- 
tion, and eloquence vas rendered ufelefs by con- 
viction. 

\VhoL- 



C 20 ] 

Whofe talents were employed on the fide of 
righteoufnefs ; whofe voice, whether in the coun- 
cil-chamber or at the bar of juftice, was virtue's 
conloiation ; at whofe approach oppreficd humani- 
ty felt a fecret rapture, and the heart of injured 
innocence leapt for joy. 

Where Hamilton was, in whatever fphere he 
moved, the friendlefs had a friend, the fatherlefs 
a father, and the poor man, though unable to re- 
ward his kindnefs, found an advocate. It was 
when the rich opprefled the poor — when the pow- 
erful menaced the defencelefs — when truth was 
difregarded, or the eternal principles of juftice vi- 
olated — it was on thefe occaiions, that he exerted 
all his ftrength. It was on thefe occafions that he 
fometimes feared fo high, and fhone with a radi- 
ance fo tranfcendent, I had almoft faid, fo " hea- 
venly, as filled thofe around him with awe, and 
gave to him the force and authority of a prophet." 

The PATRIOT, whofe integrity ba£led the 
fcrutiny of inquifition ; whofe manly virtue ne- 
ver fhaped itfelf to circumflances ; who, always 
great, always himfelf, flood amidft the varying 
tides of party, firm, like the rock which far from 
land lifts its majeftic top above the waves, and re- 
mains unCiaken by the ftorms which agitate the 
ocean. 

The FRIEND, who knew no guile ; whofe bo- 
fom was tranfparent and deep, in the bottom of 
whole heart was rooted every tender and fympa- 
thetic virtue ; whofe various worth oppofmg par- 
ties acknowledged while alive, and on whofe 
tomb they unite with equal fympathy and grief to 
heap their honours. 

I 



L 21 ] 

• I know he had his failings. I fee on the pidurc 
of his lii'e, a picture rendered awtul by grcatncla 

and luminous by virtue, feme dark Ihadcs 

On thefe let the tear that pities humaa 

weaknefs, fall : on thefc let the vail \vhich covers 

human frailty, reft As a hero, 

as a ftatcfman, as a patriot, he lived nobly ; and 
would to God I could add, he nobly fell. 

Unwilling to admit his error in this rcfpeft, I 
go back to the period of difcuilion. I fee him re- 
fitting the threatened interview. I imagine my- 
felf prefent in his chamber. Various reafons, for 
a time, feem to hold his determination in arreft. 
Various and moving objects pafs before him, and 
fpeak a diOualive language. 

His country, which may need his counfels to 
guide, and his arm to defend, utters her 'veto. The 
partner of his youth, already covered with weeds, 
and whofe tears flow down into her bofom, inter- 
cedes ! His babes, ftretching out their little 
hands, and pointing to a weeping mother, with 
lifping eloquence, but eloquence which reaches a 
parent's heart, cry out, " Stay — ftay — dear papa, 
and live for us !" In the mean time the fpeclre 
of a fallen fon, pale and ghaftly, approaches, opens 
his bleeding bofom, and, as the harbinger of death, 
points to the yawning tomb, and forewarns a he- 
fitating father of the iflue ! 

He paufes — reviews thefe fad objects and 

reafons on the fubject. I admire his magnanimi- 
ty. I approve his reafoning, and I wait to hear 
him rejccl with indignation the murderous propo- 
fition, and to fee him fpurn from his pretence the 
prefumptous bearer of it. 

But 



t 22 ] 

But I •v.-TLit in vain. It was a moment in which 
his great wifdoni forfook him ; a moment in which 
Hamilton was not himfelf. 

He yielded to the force of an imperious cuftom. 
And, yielding, he facrificed a life in which all had 
an intereft ; — and he is loft — loft to his country 
— ^loft to his family — loft to us. 

For this aft, becaufe he difclaimcd 

it, and was penitent, I forgive him. But there 
are thofe whom I cannot forgive. 

I mean not his antagonift over whofe er- 
ring fteps, if there be tears in heaven, a pious 
mother looks down and weeps. If he be capable 
of feeling, he fufFers already all that humanity 

can fuffcr Suffers, and wherever he may 

fly will fufter, with the poignant recolleftion of 
havinq; taken the life of one who was too ma<rna- 
nimous in return to attempt his own. Had he 
known this, it muft have paralyzed his arm while 
it pointed, at fo incorruptible a bofom, the in- 
ftrument of death. Does he know this now, his 
heart, if it be not adamant, muft foften — if it be 

not ice, it muft melt 

Bat on this article I forbear. Stain- 

cd with blood as he is, if he be peiutent, I forgive 
him — and if he be not, before thefe ultars, where 
all of us appear as fuppliants, I wifh not to excite 
your vengeance, but rather, in behalf of an objeft 
rendered wretched and pitiable by crime, to wake 
your prayers. 

But I have fild, and I repeat it, there are thofe 
whom I cannot forgive. 



[ 23 ] 

I cannot forgive that minifter at the altar, who 
has hitherto forborne to remonftrate on this fub- 
ject. I cannot forgive that public profecutor, 
who, entrufted with the duty of avenging his 
country's wrongs, has feen thole wrongs, and ta- 
ken no meafures to avenge them. I cannot for- 
give that judge upon the bench, or that governor 
in the chair of ftate, who has lightly pailed over 
fuch offences. I cannot forgive tiie public, in 
whole opinion the ducllift finds a l^ntftuary. I 
cannot forgive you, my brethren, who till thi^ 
late hour have been filent, whilft fuccclTlvc mur- 
ders were committed. No ; I cannot forgive you, 
that you have not, in common with the freemen 
of this ftate, raifed your voice to the powers that 
be, and loudly and explicitly demanded an execu- 
tion ol your laws — demanded this in a manner^ 
which if it did not reach the ear of government, 
would at leall have reached the heavens, and 
plead your excufe before the God that filleth them : 
in whofe prefence as I ftand, I Ihould not feel my- 
felf innocent of the blood which crieth againft us, 
had I been filent. But I have not been filcnt. 
Many of you who hear me are my witnefl'es — the 
walls of yonder temple, where I have heretofore 
addrelTed you, are my witneffes, how freely I have 
animadverted on this fubject, in the prefence both 
of thofe who have violated the laws, and of thofe 
whofe indifpenfable duty it is to fee the laws 
executed on thofe who violate them. 

I enjoy another opportunity ; and would to 
Gon I might be permitted to approach for or.ce 
the late fcene of death. Would to God I could 
there affemblc on the one fide the difconfolate mo- 
ther with her fevcn fatherlefs children — and on 
the other, thofe who ad minifter the jufticc of my 

country. 



[ 24 J 

country. Could I do this, I would point them 
to thefe fad objects. I would entreat them, by the 
agonies of bereaved fondnefs, to liften to the wi- 
dow's heartfelt groans ; to mark the orphans* 
fighs and tears — and having done this, 1 would 
uncover the breathlefs corpfe of Hamilto:; — I 
would lift from his gaping wound his bloody 
MANTLE — I would hold it up to heaven before 
them, and I would afk, in the name of God, I 
would aflc, whether at the fight of it they felt no 
compunction. 

You will alk, perhaps, what can be done to ar- 
reft the progrefs of a practice which has yet fo 
many advocates ? I anfwer, nothmg — if it be the 
deliberate intention to do nothing : but if other- 
wife, much is within our power. 

Let then the governor fee that the laws are ex- 
ecuted. Let the council difplace the man who 
offends againft their majefty. Let courts of juf- 
tlce frown from their bar, as unworthy to appear 
before them, the murderer and his accomplices. 
Let the people declare him unworthy of their con- 
fidence, who engages in fuch fanguinary contefts. 
Let this be done, and fhould life ftill be taken in 
fingle combat, then the governor, the council, the 
court, the people, looking up to the Avenger of 
fin, may fay, " We are innocent — we are inno- 
cent." 

Do you afk how proof can be obtained ? How 
can it be avoided ? — The parties return, hold up 
before our eyes the inftruments of death, publilh 
to the world the circumftances of their interview, 
and even, with an air of infulting triumph, boaft, 
how cooly and how deliberately they proceeded 

in 



C 25 ] 

in violating one of the moft facred laws of earth 
and heaven 

Ah ! ye tragic fliores of Hoboken, crimfoned 
with the richeft blood, I tremble at the crimes you 
record againft us — the annual regifter of murders 
which you keep and fend up to God ! Place of 
inhuman cruelty ! beyond the limits of reafon, of 
duty, and of religion, where man alTumes a more 
barbarous nature, and ceafes to bo man. What 
poignant, lingering forrows do thy lawlefs com- 
bats occalion to furviving relatives ! 

Ye who have hearts of pity — ye who have 
experienced the anguiOi of dillolving friendfhip — 
who have wept, and iViU weep, over ihe moulder- 
ing ruins of departed kindred, ye can enter into 
this reflection. 

O thou difconfolate widow ! robbed, fo cruelly 
robbed, and in fo fhort a time, both of a hulband 
and a Ton, v/hat muft be the plenitude of thy fuf- 
ferings ! Could wc approach thee, ghdiy would 
we drop the tear of fympathy, and pour into thy 
bleeding bofom the balm of confolation. But how 
could wc comfort her whom God hath not com- 
forted ! To his throne let us lift up our voice and 
weep. O God ! if thou art ftill the widow's huf- 
band, and the father of the fatherlefs — if in the 
fulnefs of thy goodnefs there be yet mercies in 
ftorc for miferable mortals, pity, O pity this afllcl- 
ed mother, and grant that her haplefs orphans 
may find a friend, a benefa«flor, a father, in 
THEE! 

On this article I have done : and may God add 
feis blefling. 

P Bat 



[ 26 3 

But I have ftill a claim upon your patience. I can- 
not here rcprefs my feelings, and thus let pafs the 
prclent opportunity 

Hoic are the mighty fallen .' And regardlefs as 
we arc of vulgar deaths, fliall not the fall of the 
mighty aflccl us ? 

A fliort time fince, and he who is the occafion 
of our forrows, was the ornament of his country. 
He flood on an eminence ; and glory covered him. 
From that eminence he has fallen — fuddenly, for- 
ever fallen. His intercourfc with the living world 
is now ended ; and thofc who would hereafter 
iind liim m.uft feek liim in the grave. There, 
cold and lifelefs is the heart which juft now was 
the feat of fricndfliip. There, dim and fightlefs is 
the eye, whofe radiant and enlivening orb beamed 
with intelligence ; and there, clofed forever arc 
thofe lips, on whofc perfuaiive accents we have fo 
often and fo lately hung with iranfport. 

From the darknefs which refts xipon his tomb 
there proceeds, methinks, a light in which it is 
clearly feen that thofe gaudy objects which men 
purfuc are only phantoms. In this light how 
dimly fhines the fplcndour of victory ! how hum- 
ble appears the majefty of grandeur ! The bubble 
which fecmcd to have fo much folidity has burft : 
and we again fee that all below the fun is vani- 
ty 

True, the funeral eulogy has been pronounced. 
The fad and folemn proceflion has moved. The 
badge of mourning has already been decreed, and 
prefently tlie fculpturcd marble will lift up its 
front, proud to perpetuate the name of HAMIL- 
TON, 



C 27 ] 

TON, and rchcarfe to the paiTui;; traveller his 
virtues. 

Juft tributes of refpect ! and to the living ufe- 
ful. But to him, mouldering in \m narrow and 
humble habitation, what are they .''—1 low vain 1 
how unavailinsr! 



O ' 



Approach, and behold — while I lift from his 
fepulchre its covering. Ye admirers of his great- 
nefs, ye, emulous of his talents and his fame, ap- 
proach, and behold him now. How pale ! How 
filent ! No martial bands admire the adroitnels 
of his movements. No fafcinated throng weep — 
and melt — and tremble, at his eloquence ! — Amaz- 
ing change ! A fliroud ! a coffin ! a narrow fub- 
terraneous cabin ! This is all that now remains 
of Hamilton! And is this all that remains of 
HIM ! — During a life fo tranfitory, what lading 
monument then can our fondcft hopes erect ? 

My brethren ! we ftand on the borders of an 
AWFUL GULi", which is fwallowing up all things 
human. And is there, amidft this univcrfal wreck, 
nothing ftable, nothing abiding, nothing immor- 
tal, on which poor, frail, dying man can laftcn ? 

Aik. the hero, afk the ftatefman, whofe wifdoni 
you have been accuftomed to revere, and ho will 
tell you. He will tell you, did I fay ? He has aU 
ready told you, from his death bed, and his illu- 
mined fpirit ftill whifpers from the heavens, witii 
well know eloquence, the folemn admonition 

" Mortals ! haftcning to the tomb, and once 
the companions of my pilgrimage, take warning, 
and avoid my errors. Cultivate the virtues I havo 

recommendctl — 



[ 28 ] 

recommended — clioofe the Saviourl ha"v'e chofen— * 
live difintereftedly — live for immortality ; and, 
would you refcue any thing from final diflblution» 
lay it up in God." 

Thus fpeaks, methinks, our deceafed benefac- 
tor, and thus he acted during his laft fad hours. 
To the exclufion of every other concern, reli- 
gion now claims all his thoughts. 

Jesus ! Jesus is now his only hope. The 
friends of Jtsus are his friends ; the minifters of 
the altar his companions. While thefe intercede, 
he lif^ens in awful filence, or in profound fubmif- 
lion whifpers his aflent. 

Senfible, deeply fenfible of his fins, he pleads no 
merit of hib own. He repairs to the mercy feat, 
and there pours out his penitential forrows 
—there he folicits pardon. 

Keavcn, it fhould feem, heard and pitied the 
fuppliant's cries. Difburdened of his forroM'^s, 
and looking up to God, he exclaims, " Grace, 
rich grace." " I have," faid he, clafping his dy- 
ing hand^, and with a faltering tongue, " I have 

A TENDER RELIANCE ON THE MERCY OF GoD IN 

Christ." In token of this reliance, and as an 
cxprcflion of his faith, he receives the holy facra- 
rnent : And having done this, his mind becomes 
tranquil and ferene. Thus he remains, thought- 
ful indeed, but unruffled, to the laft, and meets 
death with an air of dignified compofure, and 
with an eye direded to the heavens. 

This laft 3.8:, more than any other, flieds glory 
on his chara<fler. Every thing elfe death effaces. 

Religion 



t 2S 5 

Religion alone abides with him on his dcith bed. 
He dies a Chriftian, This is all which can be en» 
rolled of him among the archives of eternity. 
This is all that can make his name great in hea^ 
ven. 

Let not the fneeriog infidel perfuade you that 
this laft ad of homage to the Saviour refulted 
from an enfeebled ftate of mental faculties, or 
from perturbation occafioned by the near ap- 
proacli of death. No ; his opinions concerning 
the Divine Miflion of Jesus Christ, and the va- 
lidity of the holy fcriptures, had long been fettled, 
and fettled after laborious inveftigation and exten- 
five and deep refearch. Theie opinions v.ere not con- 
cealed. I knew them myfelf. Some of you who 
hear me knew them, and had his life been fpared, 
it was his determination to have publifhed them 
to the world, together with the fads and reafons 
on which they were founded. 

At a time when fcepticifm, fliallow and fupcrfi- 
cial indeed, but depraved and malignant, is breath- 
ing forth its peftilential vapour, and polluting by 
its unhallowed touch every thing divine and fa- 
cred ; it is confoling to a devout mind to reflecf, 
that the great, and the wife, and the good, of all 
ages ; thofe fuperior geniufes, whofe fplendid ta- 
lents have elevated them almoft above mortality, 
and placed them next in order to angelic natures 
— Yes, it is confoling to a devout mind to refietfl:, 
that while dwarjip infidelity lifts up its deformed 
head, and mocks, thefe illustrious personages, 
though living in diHerent ages — inhabiting differ- 
ent countries — nurtured in different fciiools — de- 
ftined to different purfuits — and differing on vari- 
ous fubjeds — fliould all, as if touched v.ith an im^ 

puir^ 



C 30 ] 

pulfe from heaven, agree to vindicate the Sacrcd- 
nels of Revelation, and prefcnt, vi^ith one accord, 
their learning, their talents, and their virtue, on 
the Gofpel Altar, as an offering to Emanuel. 

This is not exaggeration. Who was it, that, 
overleaping the narrov/ bounds which had hitherto 
been fet to the human mind, ranged abroad 
through the immenfity of fpace, difcovercd and 
illuflrated thofe laws by which the Deity unites, 
binds and governs all things ? Who was it, fear- 
ing into the fublime of aftronomic fcience, num- 
bered the flars of heaven, meafured their fpheres, 
and called them by their names ? It was Newton. 
But Newton was a Chriflian. Newton, great as 
he was, received inftruclion from the lips, and 
laid his honours at the feet, of Jesus. 

Who was it that developed the hidden combi- 
nation, the component parts, of bodies ? Who 
was it diiTeftcd the animal, examined the flower, 
penetrated th.e earth, and ranged the extent of or- 
ganic nature ? It was Boyle. But Boyle was a 
Chriilian. 

Who was it that lifted the vail which had for 
ages covered the intellectual world, analyzed the 
human mind, defined its powers, and reduced its 
operations to certain and fixed laws ? It was 
Locke. But Locke too was a Chriftian. 

What more fhall I fay ? For time would fail 
mc, to fpeak of Hale, learned in the law ; of 
Addison, admired in the fchools ; of Milton, 
celebrated among the poets ; and of Washing- 
ton, immortal in the field and in the cabinet. • 

To tliis catalogue of profefiing Chriflians, from 

among. 



C 31 ] 

among, if I may fpeak fo, a higher order of be- 
ings, may now be added the name of ALEXAN- 
DER HAMILTON. A name, which raifes in the 
mind the idea of whatever is great, whatever is 
fplendid, whatever is illuftrious, in human nature ; 
and which is now added to a catalogue which 

might be lengthened and lengthened and 

lengthened, with the names of illufirious charac- 
ters, whofe lives have bleffed fociety, and whofc 
works form a COLUMN high as heaven— a co- 
lumn of learning, of wifdom and of greatncfs, 
which will Hand to future ages, an eterxal mo- 
nument of the tranfccndent talents of the advo- 
cates of Chriftianity, M'hcn every fugitive leaf, 
from the pen of the cantling infidel witlings of 
the day, Ihall be fwept by the tide of time from 
the annals of the world, and buried with the 
names of their authors in oblivion. 

To conclude. Hoic- are the mighty fallen ! Fallen 
before the defolatina; hand of death. Alas ! the 

ruins of the tomb The ruins of the 

tomb are an emblem of the ruins of the world : 
When not an individual, but an univcrfe, already 
marred by fm, and haftening to diflblution, Ihall 
agonize and die ! Dirccling your thoughts from 
the one, fix them for a moment on the other. Anti- 
cipate the concluding fcene, the linal cataftrophc, 
of nature : When the fign of the Son of Maa 
fhall be feen in heaven : When the Son of Man 
himfelf Ihall appear in tlie glory of his Father, and 
fend forth judgment unto viclory. The fiery 
defolation envelopes towns, palaces and fortrelTes. 
The heavens pafs away ! The earth ir.elts ! and all 
thofe magnificent produdfions of art, which ages 
heaped on ages have reared up, arc in one awful 
day reduced to aflies ! 

Againft 



•a 



C 32 3 

Againfl: the ruins of that day, as well as the 
Jruins of the tomb which precede it, the gofpel, in 
the CROSS of its great High Priest, offers you all 
a ianctuary — a fandluary fecurc and abiding — a 
fanftuary, which no lapfe of time nor change of 
circumftances can deilroy. No ; neither life nor 
death— No ; neither principalities nor powers. 

Every thing elfe is fugitive ; every thing elfe is 
mutable ; every thing eile will fail you. But this, 
the CITADEL of the Chriftian's hopes, will never 
fail you. Its bafe is adamant. It is cemented 
with the richeft blood. The ranfomed of the Lord 
crowd its portals. Enbofomed in the duft whicli 
it enclofes, the bodies of the redeemed " reft in 
hope." On its top dv/eils the cliurch of the Firft 
Born, who, in delightful rcfponfe with the angels 
of light, chant redeeming love. Againft this Ci- 
tadel the tempeft beats, and around it tlieftorm 
rages and fpends its force, in vain. Immortal in 
its nature, and incapable of change, it ftands, and 
ftands lirm, amidft the ruins of a mouldering 
world, and endures forever. 

Thither fly, ye prifoners of hope ! — that when 
earth, air, elements, fliall have palled away, fecurc 
of exiftence and felicity, you may join with faints 
in glory, to perpetuate the fong which lingered on 
the faltering tongue of HAxMILTON— " Grace, 
KICK Grace." 

God grant us thi.-; honour. Then fhall the 
meafure of our joy be full, and to his name fhall 
be the glory in Christ. 

AMEN, 



APPENDIX. 



The follotu'mg Paper, in the hand writing of dn, HAMinotf, mat 
enclofed with his [l^il/, and fome other Papers, in a packet, addrtjfed 
to one of his Executors, rvhich tvas of conrfc not to have been de- 
livered but in cnfe of the melancholy) e-jtnt that has happened. As it 
contains his mi/tives and rejiedions on the caufs that have led to thit 
fatal catqflrophe, it is deemed proper to communicate it to the Public. 

ON my expected interview with Col. Burr, I tliink it prn- 
per to make fome remarks explanatory of my condufl, 
motives and vievva. 

I was certainly defirous of avoiding this interview, for the 
nioft cogent real'ons. 

1. My religious and moral principles arc ftrongly oppofed 
to the pradtice of duelling, and it would ever give me pain to 
be obliged to fheJ die blood of a fellovv creature in a private 
combat forbidden by the laws. 

2. My wife and children are extremely dear to me, and my 
life is of the utmoil importance to them, in various views. 

3. I feel a fenf™ of obligation towards my creditors, who, 
in cafe of accident to me, by thi; forced fale of my property, 
may be in feme degree fufterers. I did not think myfelf at 
liberty, as a man of probity, lightly to expofc them to this 
hazard. 

4. I am confciins of no ill •will to Col. Burr, dift'nft 
from political oppofjtion, which, as I truil, has proceeded 
from pure and upright motives. 

Laltly, I ihall h izard much, and can pofiibly gain no- 
thinsf, by the ifTue of the interview. 

But it was, as I conceive, impofUble for ne to avoid it. 
There were intrinjtc difficulties in the thing, and arlifcial em- 
barradments, from the manner of protxeding on the part of 
Col Burr. 

Intrinfic, becanfe it is not to be denied, that my animadver- 
fions on the political principles, charaif^er and views of Col. 
Burr, have been extremely fevere ; and on ditferent occafions, 
I, in common with many others, have made very unfavoura- 
ble criticifms on particular inllances of the private conduiS of 
this gentleman. 

In proportion as thefe imprcfliors vere entertained with 

fincerity, and uttered with motives and for purpoi'es which 

miglit appear to me commendable, would be the difficulty 

(until they could be removed by evidence of their being ei- 

E rotieous) 



C 34 ] 

foneous) of explanation or apology. The difavowal requir- 
ed of me by Col. Burp., in a general and indefinite form, was 
out of my power, if it had really been proper for me to fub^ 
mit to be fo cjueiiioned : but I was fincevely of opinion that 
this could not be, and in this opinion I was confirmed by that 
of a very moderate and judicious friend whom I confulted : 
Befides that Col. Burr appeared to me to alfume, in the firft 
iaftaiice, a tone unnecciTarily peremptory and menacing, and 
in the fecond, pofitively ofFenfive. Yet I wifhed, as far as 
might be practicable, to leave a door open to accomodation. 
Tliis, I think, will be interred from the written communications 
made by me and by my direftion, and would be confirmed by 
the converfations between Mr. Van Nefs and myfelf, which 
arofe out of the fubjcit. 

I am not fure, wliether, under all the circumftances, I did 
not go further in the attempt to accommodate than a punflili- 
ous delicacy will juftify. If fo, I hope the motives I have fta- 
ted will excufe me. 

It is not my defign,by what I have faid, to affix any odium 
on the conduft of Col. Burr, in this cafe. He doubtlefs has 
heard of animadverfions of mine which bore very hard upon 
him ; and it is probable that as ufual they were accompanied 
with fome falfehoods. He may have fuppofed himfelf under 
tiie neceliity of acting as he has done ; 1 hope the grounds of 
his proceeding have been fuch as ought to fatisfy his own 
eonfcience, 

. I truft, at the fame time, that the world will do me the juf- 
tice to believe, that I have not cenfured him on liglit groimds, 
nor from unworthy inducements. I certainly have had 
ftrong reafons for what I may have faid, though it is pofllble 
that in fome particulars, 1 may have been influenced by mif- 
conlhudion or mifmformation. It is alio my ardent wi(h 
that I may liave been more miftaken than I think I have 
been, and that he, by his future condu(fl, may ilaew himfelf 
worthy of all confidence and efteem, and prove an ornament 
and blcfling to the country. 

As well bccaufe it is pollible that I may have injured Col. 
Burr, however convinced myfelt that my opinions and decla- 
rations have been well founded, as from my general principles 
and temper in relation to fimilar affairs — I have refolved, if 
our interview is condu.5ted in the ufual manner, and it pleafes 
God to give me the opportunity, to rejlrve and throw a-way my 
firll fire, and / have thoughts even of njirvin^ my fecond fire — 
and thus giving a double opportunity to Col. Burr to paufe 
and to refleifl. 

It is not, however, my Intention to enter into any explana- 
tions on the ground Apology, from principle I hope, ra- 
ther than pride, is out of the queltiou. To 



[ S5 ] 

To thofe, who, with me, abhorring the praftice of dt'cHin^, 
may think that I ought on no account to have :idded to liie 
number of bad examples — I anfwer, that my rrhilive (itvuuon, 
as well in public as private, enforcing all the confiderations 
which conllitute what men of the world denominate lionniir, 
impofed on me (as I thought) a peculiar neceflity not to de- 
cline the call. The ability to be iu future ufeful, whether 
in refilling mifchief or effeding good, in tliofc crifes of our 
public affairs, which feem likely to happen, would probably be 
infeparable from a conformity with public prejudice in this 
particular. . j. 



W I L L. 

IN the name of God, Amen. I, ALEXANDER H.A.- 
MILTON, of the city of New York, Counfellor at Law, do 
make this my Laft Will and Teftament, as follows : 

Firft, I appoint John B. Church, Nicholas Filh, and Na- 
thaniel Pendleton, of the crty aforefaid, Efquires, to be Exe- 
cutors and Truftees of this my will, and I dcvife to them, 
their heirs and affigns, as joint tenants and not as tenants in 
common, all my eftate, real and perfonal, whatfoever, and 
wherefoever, upon trull, at their difcretion, to fell and difpofe 
of the fame, at fuch time and times, in fucii manner, and 
upon fuch terms, as they the furvivors and furvivor lliall 
think fit, and out of the proceeds to pa) all the debts which I 
fliall owe at the time of my deceafe ; in whole if the fund be 
fufficient, proportionahly if it fhall be infufficient ; and the 
refidue, if any there fhall be, to pay and deliver to my excel- 
lent and dear wife Elizabeth Hamilton. 

If it fliould pleafe God to fpare my life, I may look 
for a confiderable furplus out of my prefcnt property ; yet if 
he fhould fpeedily call me to the eternal world, a forced fale, 
as is ufual, may poflibly render it infufficient to fitisfy my 
debts. I piay God that fomething may remain for the 
maintenance and education of my dear wife and children. 
But fliould it on the contrary happen that there ii not enougii 
for the payment of my debts, I entreat my dear children, if 
they, or any of them, fhould ever be able, to make up the de- 
ficiency. I without hefitatiou commit to their delicacy a wifli 
which is dictated by my own. Though confcious that I have 
too far facrificed the interells of my family to public avoca- 
tions, and on this account have the lefs claim to burthen my 
children, yet I truft in their magnanimity to appreciate- 



I 36 2' 

as ihey ought, 'Jiis my requeft. In Co unfavourable an event: 
of things, the fuppoit of their dear mother, with the moft re- 
refpefllul and tender attention, is a duty, all the iacrednefs of 
v.hich they will feel. Probably her own patrimonial reibur- 
ces will preferve her from indigence. But in all fituations 
they are charged to bear in mind that fhe has been to them 
the moll devoted and bell of mothers. 

In tellimony whereof, I have hereunto fubfcribed my 
hand, the ninth day of July, in the year of our 
Lord one thoufand eight hundred and four. 

ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
Signed, fealed, publidied and declared, as and for his laSi 
will and tt tlanient, in our prefence, who have fubfoibcd 
the fame in his prefence, the words John B. Church be- 
ing above interlined. dq M 1 N I C K F. B L A K E, 

GRAHAM BURRJLL, 
THEO: B. VALLEAU. 
Nciu-Toik, Surrogah's Office, J. July 1 6, 1804. 

1 do hereby certify the preceding to be a true copy of 
the original Will of Alexander Hamilton, deceafed, now on 
file in my office. SI LV ANUS MILLER, Smrogate. 

Bifhop Moore's Letter. 

Mr. Coleman, 

THE pul)Iic mind bting extremely agitated by the me- 
lancholy fate of that great man, Alexanter Hamil- 
ton, I have thought it would be grateful to my fellow citizens, 
w'ould provide againft mifreprefcntations, and, pcrha]>s, be 
conducive to i i;e advancement of the caufe of Religion, were 
I to give a narrative of fome {■.;&% which have iidkn under 
my own obfervation, during the time which clapfed between 
the fatal duel and his departure out of this world. 

Yefterday morning, immediately after he was brought 
from Hobolv'en to the houfe of Mr. Bayard, at Greenwich, 
a meifage was fent. informing me of the fad event, accom- 
panied by a requcil from Gen. Hamilton, that I would 
coirfe to him for the purpofe of adminifterirg the holy com- 
munion. I went ; but beirg defirous to afford time for fericus 
rcflecflion, and conceiving that under exifting circnn;i'ances, it 
would be right and proper to avoid every appearance of pre- 
cipitancy in performing one of the moft folcmn offices of 
our religion, I did not then comply with his dcfire. At one 
o'clock 1 was again called on to vifit him.. Upon my en- 
tering the room and approaching his bed, with the utm(ift 
calmnefs and compofure hs faid, " My dear Sir, you per- 
ceive 



[ --. 3 

ceivc my unfortunate iitus'.ion, anJ no doubt h.ive been 
made acquiinted with the circumltances which led to it. It 
is my deljre to receive the comiiiuaiuii at your hands. I 
hope you will not conceive tliat tlierj ib any impropriety in 
my reiuell." He addi--d, " It has for ftimc time pad Seen the 
\vi(h of my heart, and it was my intention to take an early 
opportunity ol uniting myfelf to the church, by the recep- 
tion of that holy ordinance." I olifcrved to him, that he 
mufl be very fenfihle of the delicate and trying fitu itii n in 
which I was then placed ; that however deiiroui I might be 
to afford confolalion to a fellow mortal in difircfs, ftill it 
was my duty, as a miniftcr of the gofpel, to hold up the law 
of God as paramount to all other law ; and that, therefore, 
under the influence of fuch fenciments, I mult unequivocal- 
ly condemn the praftice which had brought him to his pre- 
fent unhappy condition. He acknowledged the propriety of 
thefe fentiments, and declared he viewed the laic tranfac- 
tion with f^^^row and contrition. 1 then alked him, " Should 
it pleafe God to reftore you to health. Sir, will you never 
be again engaged in a (imilar iranfaciion ? and will you em- 
ploy all your influence in I'ociety to difcountenar.ce this bar- 
barous cuftom ?" His anfwcr was, " That, Sir, is my de- 
liberate intention." 

I proceeded to converfe with him on the fubjecl of his re- 
ceiving the communion ; and told him that with refpeiS to the 
qualifications of thofe who wifhed to become partakers of that 
holy ordinance, my inquiries could not be made in language 
more expreffive than that which was ufed by our Church — 
" Do you fincerely repent of your fins paft ? Have you a 
" lively faith in God's mercy through Chrilt, with a thankful 
■" remembrance of the death of Chrift ? And are you difpof- 
" ed to live in love and charity with all men '." ?le lifted up 
his hands and faid, " With the ntmoft fmcerity of heart 1 can 
" anfwer thofe queftions in the affirmative — I have no ill will 
" againft CoL Eurr. I met him with a hxed refolution to do 
"him no harm. 1 forgive all that happened." I then ob- 
ferved to him, that the terrors of the divine law were to be 
announced to the obdurate and impenitent ; but that the con- 
folations of the Gofpel were to be offered to the humble and 
contrite heart ; that I had no reafon to doubt his fmcerity, 
and would proceed immediately to gratify his willies. Tiie 
communion was thin adminiRered, which he received wi;h 
great devotion, and his heart afterwards appeared to be per- 
fectly at reft. I faw him again this morning, when w-i-h his 
!a(t faltering words he exprelfed a ftrong confidence in the 
mercy of God through the intercefiion of the Redeemer. 1 
remained with him until 2 o'clock this afternoon, when death 

clofed 



'f^ 



[ 38 ] 

clofedthe awful fccne — he expired without a ftruggle, and aT- 
moft without a groan. 

By refleding on this melancholy event, let the humble be- 
liever be encouraged evet to hold faft that precious faith wliich 
is the only fource ot true confolation in the lad extremity of 
nature. Let the infidel be perfuaded to abandon his oppofi- 
tion to thst gofpel which the flrong, inquifitive and compre- 
heiifive mind of a HAMILTON embraced, in his lad mo- 
meats, as the truth from heaven. Let thofc who are difpofed 
rojuftify the practice of duelling, be induced, by this fimple 
narrative, to view with abhorrence that cuftom which has cc- 
cafioned an irreparable lofs to a worthy and moft affliifted 
family, which has deprived his friends of a beloved compa- 
nion, his profeffion of one of its brighteft ornaments, and his 
country of a great ftatefman and a real patriot. 
With great refpeift, I remain 

Your friend and ferv't, 

BENJAMIN MOORE. 



Rev. Mr. Mafon's Letter. 

To 7nE Editor of thf Commercial /lDi'if.TnfR. 

HAVING read in your paper of the i6th, a very imper- 
fed: account of my converfativm with General Hamii- 
TON the day previous to his deceafe, I judge it my duty to lay 
the following narrative before the public. 

On the morning of Wednefday the nth inft. (liortly after 
the rumour of the General's injury had created an alarm m 
the city, a note from Dr. Poll; informed me that "he was ex- 
tremely ill at Mr. William Bayard's, and expreffcd a particular 
dcUre to fee me as foon as poffible." I went immediately. 
The exchange of melmcholy f;ilutation on entering the Ge- 
neral's apartment, was fucceeded by a filence which he broke 
by faying, that he " had been anxious to fee me, and have the 
facrameiit adminiftered to him, and that this was ftill his wilh." 
1 replied, " that it gave me unutterable pain to receive from 
him any requeil to which I could not accede : That in the 
prefent inllance, a compliance was incompatible wiili all my 
obligations ; as it was a principle in our churches never to ad- 
miuifter the Lord's Supper privately to any perfon under any 
circumftances." He urged me no further. I then remarked 
to him that " the holy communion is an exhibition and pledge 
of the mercies which the Son of God has purchafed ; tluit the 
abfence of the fi-^'n does not exclude from the mercies iignifi- 
ed ; which were acccinble to him by faith in their gracious 
Author." " I urn aware," faid he, " of that. It is only as a 
fign that I wanted it." A fliort paufe eiifued. I refumed. 
the difcourfe, by obferving that " 1 had nothing to addrefs to 



E 39 3 

kim in his afflitJlion but that fame gofptl of tht grace of CtA 
which it is my office to preach to the mod obfcure and illite- 
rate : that in the fight of God all men are on a level, as a!l 
have fimieJ, and come Jljort of his glory ; and that they muft ap- 
ply to him for pardon and for life, cu fuimrs, whofe only re- 
fuge is in his grace reigning by r'lghteoufnefa through our Lord Je- 
fus Chr'ift." " 1 perceive it to be fo," faid he, " 1 am a fmner : 
I look to his mercy." I then adverted to " the infinite merit 
of the Redeemer, as the prapitiation for fm, the fole ground of 
our acceptance with God, the fole channel of his favour to 
us; and cited the following palfages of the fcripture : '■'■There 
is no other mime given under heaven among men whereby ive mufl be 
faved, but the name of Jefus — He is able to fave them to the ultermnjl 
luho come unto God ly him, feeing he ever livelh to mate inlcrce/fion 
for them — The blood of Jefus Chrijl cleanfeth from all fm." This 
iaft paffiige introduced the affair of the duel, on which I re- 
minded the General that he was not to be inftru<5led as to its 
moral afpeft ; that " the precious blood of Chrtjl was as effeiSual 
and as necelfary to wadi away the tranfgrcffion which had in- 
volved him in fuffering, as any other traufgrclTion ; and that 
he muft there, and there alone, feek peace for his confciencc, 
and a hope that fhoulJ not male him ajhnmed-" He aflcnted, 
with (Irong emotion, to thefe reprefentation<;, and declared his 
abhorrence of the whole tranfafl^ion. " It was always," add- 
ed he, " againft my principles. I ufcd every expedient to 
avoid the interview : but 1 have found, for fome time pall, 
that my life mufl be expofed to that man. I went to the field 
determined not to take his life." He repeated his difavowal 
of all intention to hurt Mr. Burr ; the anguifti of his mind in 
recollefting what had pafled ; and his humble hope of forgive- 
nels from his God. I recurred to the topic ol the divine 
companions ; the freedom of pardon in the Redeemer Jefus 
to perilling finners. " That grace, my dear General, which 
brings falvation is rich, rich" — " Yes," interrupted he, " it is 
rich grace." " And on that grace," continued I, " a finr.cr 
has the higheft encouragement to repofe his confidence, be- 
caufe it is tendered to him upon the furtft foundation ; the 
fcripture teftifying that we have redemption through the blood of 
Jefus, the forgivenefs of fins according to the riches of his grace." 
Here the General, letting go my hand, which he had held 
from the moment I fat down by his bed-fide, clafped his hands 
together, and, looking up towards heaven, faid with empha- 
/is, " I have a tender relianceon the mercy of the Almighty, 
through the merits of tlie Lord Jefus drift." He replaced 
his hand in mine, and, appearing fomewh.it fpent, clofed his 
eyes. A little after, ha faftened them on me, and 1 proceed- 
<d; "Thiftmplc truths of the gofpel, my dear fir, which re- 
quire 



• [ 40 ] 

quire no aliflruf-; invcftigation, but faitli in -tlie veracity of 
God, who c:mnot lie, are bert fuited to your preicnt condition, 
and they art; full of I'onfoliition." " 1 t'ei.'l them to be i'u," re- 
plied he. I then repeated tLele texts of fcripture. " // is a 
Jaithfal faying, and lunrlhy nj all accsptalion, that Chrijl Jffus came 
into the nuurld to fav; fuiners, and of fii.n:rs the chi^f- — /, even /, am 
he that hlutteth out thj traiif^rtfJlMts, for m'me oion fuL-e, and ivUl not 
nmemher thy fins — Come njiv, and let us reafon together, faith the 
J^ord ; though your fins bs as fcailet, they Jhall be nahite as fnoiu ; 
t'lmigh th'y he red I'lke crinfon, they faall be as -wool." "This," 
f.iiti iie, '■ is my fuppoit — Pray ior me." " Sh.ill I pray ivith 
you ?" "Yes !" 1 prayed v.iih him, and heard him whifpcr 
as 1 wont along, which I iuppofed to be his concurrence with 
the netitions. At the conclulion he faid, "Amen, God grant 
it."' 

Bwing about to p.irt with hi.Ti, I told him " I had one re- 
qu,;it to make." He alked " what it was r" I anfwered, 
•' that, whatever might be the iffue of his afflidion, he would 
give his teftimnny againft the praif>ice of duelling." " I will," 
laid he — " I have done it. If that," evidently anticipating 
tile event, "it that be the iil'ue, you will find it in writing. It" 
it pleafe God that 1 recover, I lluill do it in a manner which 
will eiFcilually put me nut of its reach in future." 

I mentioned, once more, tlie importance of renouncing eve- 
ry other dependence for the eternal world, but the mercy of 
God in Chrill Jeiiis ; with a particular reference to the cataf- 
trophe of the morning, 'ihe General was affcLled, and faid, 
" Let us not purfue the fubj -It any further — it .agitates tne." 
He laid his hands upon his breaft, with fymptoms of uncafinefs 
which indicated an increafed difficulty of fpeaking. I then 
took my leave. He preffed my hand afFciftionately, and de- 
fired to ice me again at a proper interval. As 1 was retiring, 
he lifted up liis hands in the atlitude of prayer, and laid fee- 
bly, " Gou be merciful to " His voice funk, fo that I 

heard not the roll diftinftiy, but underftood him to quote the 
words of the publican in the gofpel, and to end the fentenc« 
with, " me, a finner." 

I faw him a fecond time, on the morning of Thurfday ; 
but from his appearance, and whati had beibre obferved, he 
could not fpenk without fevere efforts. 1 had but a fliort con- 
verfation with him. I prayed, for a moment, at his bed-fide, 
in company with his overwhelmed family and friends ; and 
for the veil, was one of the mourning fpeiSators of his com- 
pofure and dignity in fuffering. His mind remained in its 
"former Hate ; "and he viewed v/ith calmnefs his approaching 
dilFolution. I left him between twelve and one, and at two, 
Jis the public know, he breathed his laft. 
I am, fir, with much refpeft, 

Your obedient lervant, J. M. MASON. 



Lfi N'lO 



i 



